


Petit Fours and Petty Jealousy

by Queen_of_the_Ruckus



Series: Afternoon Tea [2]
Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Cake, Confessions, Flashback Era, Jealousy, M/M, Rivalry, Tea, Urokai is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26035021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_the_Ruckus/pseuds/Queen_of_the_Ruckus
Summary: Roses are red, violets are blue.Better watch your back, Urokai. Franken’s coming for you.
Relationships: Frankenstein/Cadis Etrama di Raizel
Series: Afternoon Tea [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889767
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72





	Petit Fours and Petty Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> Flashback era, slightly pre-contract.

Frankenstein smiles almost wickedly to himself, this small victory sweeter than the cakes so delicately arranged upon the tray. This time when he’d entered the room, he'd found the quiet Noblesse already waiting in his seat at the table, no longer held captive by the siren call of his window. 

_Or perhaps simply ensnared by a new temptress._

He hums softly to himself as he pours and sweetens Raizel's tea, pleased at the thought. 

He already knows that he is tempting, what with the Union and the nobles and everyone else always hunting him, vying for his secrets and his research. But here and now he can allow himself to feel that he is tempting in other ways. In ways he hasn't had the luxury to indulge since the days before his enhancements. The days before his every attachment became a painted target. 

Perhaps… Perhaps this noble might be enticed to look to him for other sweet things, as well? Might look at him as he does the brightly colored petit four on his plate; all glossy and sugared and frosted pastel pink? 

Or, no, perhaps he wouldn't want to be looked at like _that_. "Is there something wrong with your cake, Master?" 

Raizel stares down at the delicately crafted rose set atop the miniature cake, white with a tiny green leaf. He stares as though he doesn't quite know what to make of it. 

"There's no need for concern. It's made of sugar, the flower isn't real." A small bead of sweat trickles down past his temple. Evidence, perhaps, of his own nervousness that his offering might disappoint. That his master may not yet have come to trust in his servant as Frankenstein has learned that he can trust in Raizel. That the best he can provide simply isn't good enough for this beautiful, patient creature, at last drawn away from his solitude solely for this. Perhaps the endeavor was a folly from the start. 

Or perhaps not, as Raizel's gaze now meets his own, a slight showing of surprise and concern. For him, he knows, and Frankenstein pulls himself up from where his thoughts and anxiety spiral to better focus on Raizel. 

After a moment, it dawns on him. "Master, are you unfamiliar with the flower? Have you not encountered a rose before?" Hm, now _that_ was a sweet thought. Perhaps his host might be enticed to leave this very room. To set foot outside in a garden under silvery moonlight, or else venture into a bedroom crowded with vases, a trail of petals laid out for him to follow… 

"I have."

He stiffens, no longer so secure in his privilege at being the noble's sole diversion. 

"Urokai has brought them before."

Blue eyes shutter in shock and disbelief, opening again to find his master offering more words. Words that yes, he wants to hear - for how could he not desire to hear more of soft velvet uttered just for him? But their content twists at him. Low in his gut something ugly raises its head. 

_Him? Jealous of_ _Urokai_? 

A flash of the brash, elitist's hands running down Raizel's delicate throat to part the collar of his soft, white shirt tears a hole through his mind, and it is all he can do to swallow down the mix of feelings it incites. 

"He has told me they hold meaning."

Murder whispers to him, a low buzz in the back of his brain. "And what did," he swallows, his voice on the verge of betraying exactly how he feels, " _Urokai…_ have to say on the subject?" 

Raizel blinks, visibly confused by the edge in Frankenstein’s mood today. His eyes return to the cake, a finger delicately brushing the edge of the crafted flower. "Purity. Loyalty. Love."

The redhead hadn't been telling his master lies, at least. But if Raizel knew the meaning of white roses, then it could be assumed that white was the color he'd received. 

He'll just have to try harder. While white may convey true sentiments and he would die with pride for his loyalty to Raizel, he'd much rather make explicit his intentions with red. Especially, though he would sooner grind up a teapot and eat it than admit to such a thing, when considering Urokai's apparent advances. 

Or was that line of thought too presumptuous? Had Raizel and Urokai already… His heart stutters at the thought of Raizel in the arms of the volatile clan leader. “Master, are you in a relationship with Urokai?” And then, because he doesn’t think he can handle a misunderstanding in this, “Are you two romantically involved?”

He is painfully aware of how nobles gather the meaning to unfamiliar words, and if it were anyone else he’d consider it unforgivably rude and invasive. But just for Raizel, at the sight of the question in his eyes, he broadcasts his thoughts as clearly as he can. And because Raizel is captivating and Frankenstein is now willing to admit to his own captivation, he sends him clear images as well. _His own hands cupping Raizel’s face. His lips against his master’s, trailing soft kisses down his graceful neck. Sliding an open shirt down over ivory shoulders. The two of them tangled up in a grand bed that does not yet exist_ \- he hadn’t intended to make his move just yet. Such a room exists only in his hazy dreams for the future. 

All of this comes tumbling out of him in a heated rush, his own careful intention to coax Raizel slowly into love now abandoned at the thought that he might already be too late. That _Urokai_ , of all people, may have already beaten him to the only soul he’s come to desire in more time than he’d care to admit.

When his own head clears enough from his efforts at defining the word “romantic”, Raizel is as rosy the flowers he has yet to receive. A soft sound escapes him as he looks again to the beautifully prepared cake before him, his tea now only lukewarm. “No.”

Frankenstein looks on speechlessly, his master robbed of any additional words at the aggressive onslaught of his own thoughts. His own response is held flat as he waits, hardly daring to breathe. 

He watches as Raizel lifts a lovely silver fork, scoops up the little symbol of Frankenstein’s emotion and intent from atop the cake. Openly stares as soft lips part to accept it, taste it, swallow it down. Granting acknowledgement to his will and designs.

Frankenstein’s own swallow is audible, his face now quite warm.

Raizel's acceptance of his intent... Frankenstein resists the sudden impulse to sweep the gentle Noblesse into a passionate kiss. His Raizel is worth the slow burn of a careful courtship, and he wouldn't dare rush him. His master is clearly not recovered from his vocabulary lesson, and Frankenstein would rather give him the chance to mull it over and grow accustomed to the idea of physical advances. Eager for it even, as Raizel has grown to anticipate his tea and his sweets.

And then there is still the matter of Urokai.

Frankenstein wouldn't _dream_ of denying his rival his due. His grin grows wicked once more as he serves his master another petit four. Perhaps Ragar might be convinced to set up a sparring arrangement between them - he'd _love_ the chance to better size the man up and gage Urokai's reaction to his own declaration of intent.


End file.
